The Times was described some 70 years ago by Left-wing Labour politician and journalist Tom Driberg as “an almost perfect newspaper”. That praise, shortly after the paper had been heavily criticised for championing appeasement, illustrates the deep affection it had generated among the elite it served.

In Britain, it was regarded as “the paper of record”; across the world, it was the voice of this nation. Its nickname, The Thunderer, had been transformed into a virtue.

This prestige survived several ownerships — the Walters, Lords Northcliffe, Astor and Thomson — and a variety of editors. Its specialness was recognised by the fact the board had “independent national directors” (INDs) to protect editorial integrity.

When Rupert Murdoch sought to buy it in 1981, such was the opposition to his bid he felt obliged to give a series of undertakings that included increasing the number of INDs. It was agreed that editors of The Times “may be appointed or removed only by the agreement of a majority of the” INDs. Murdoch further “undertook to bind himself to preserve the separate identities of The Times and Sunday Times.”

In their evidence to the Leveson inquiry, the current INDs underlined their obligations in those terms. So imagine their shock when they learned that The Times’s editor, James Harding, was told by News Corporation that it wanted to replace him.

The directors had not been informed. Murdoch, eager to appoint Sunday Times editor John Witherow, had simply ignored them. It was an unforgivable snub. Among the six INDs were at least two who were particularly upset — the chairman of the Economist group, Rupert Pennant-Rea, and former Evening Standard editor, Veronica Wadley.

They realised that if they were to maintain their credibility they could not possibly rubber-stamp Witherow’s appointment. Nor, given persistent rumours linking Witherow’s appointment with a possible merger of The Times and Sunday Times, could they justify giving way on that either.

So they sought legal advice about the extent of their remit and refused to endorse Witherow. Murdoch, right, responded by making him “acting editor” and is now belatedly trying to win the INDs round. But even that is proving troublesome.

He flew into London this week expecting to sort it out swiftly but the INDs are standing their ground. It is an extraordinary situation, partly due surely to the fact there was no management foresight. Did nobody at the top think, in advance of the conversation with Harding, to brief the INDs?

Then again, “the top” has been a moveable feast at Murdoch’s UK newspaper outfit in the past two years since the News of the World hacking scandal unfolded. Murdoch lacks any senior manager at Wapping with editorial nous, let alone someone who understands the history of The Times and the consequent sensitivities involved in replacing an editor.

Indeed, ironically, Witherow himself is probably the most knowledgeable figure in the company, having once worked at The Times and having spent 18 years in the chair at the Sunday Times. No wonder he is reported to have been sure-footed in his initial contacts with the paper’s journalists.

But he cannot be other than aware that there is commercial sense in merging at least some of the editorial departments of the two titles. He will also know that, compared with its rivals, The Times has more staff. I understand that cutbacks, even without a merger, are viewed as necessary.

Doubtless, the INDs have been made aware of these factors as they mull over what to do. They have a grave responsibility because the fate of one of the world’s most famous newspaper titles is in their hands. Can its separate identity really be preserved?

Roy Greenslade is Professor of Journalism, City University London, and writes a blog for the Guardian